


Blame it on the Ropes

by bluejorts



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Butt Plugs, M/M, Manhandling, Marking, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Trans Connor, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Trans Hank Anderson, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, but i did FUN THINGS w the marking, connor is such a BRAT shit man, mlm author, not choking but neck stuff, trans author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 10:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16093691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejorts/pseuds/bluejorts
Summary: Hank dropped the rope onto the bed, watching Connor’s eyes snap towards it. “Someone would think you enjoyed being punished.”Connor shrugged. “Well I always know I deserve it.”Connor's a brat.





	Blame it on the Ropes

**Author's Note:**

> listen apparently when i write porn the name i give it Has To Be a dumb fuckin play on words of the song i currently have stuck in my head
> 
> this is a version of the fic i published the other day just wout the daddy stuff bc i know that's not everyones cup of tea n i wanted more ppl to b able to read this!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: i DO own dbh fuck OFF david cage its mine now
> 
> quick notes!  
> \- connor and hank are both trans dudes  
> \- connor uses exclusively male terms for his gents, when the word 'hole' is used it means the Bonus Hole  
> \- hank uses male language but does refer to the Bonus Hole as his pussy  
> \- you dont have to know this but connor has scars on his chest bc he had the panel switched out and there wasn't a suitable one for his model so someone haphasardly fit one and it leaves raised lines at its edges (he had top surgery essentially bc im trans and i said so)  
> \- i hate the term bonus hole and am using it ironically like a Prick

Hank had never imagined a robot could be bratty until he met Connor.

Not that Hank had any problem with it. He was more than happy to put Connor in his place. A place that was at that moment lying on the bed awaiting Hank and the rope he brought with him.

“Right. You sure you want this?” He asked one last time.  

Connor rolled over with a short huff. His movement was fluid and controlled in one, rolling from a casual position on his stomach to one far more open and inviting. He was still mostly dressed, the only thing missing from his getup being a suit jacket that Hank was pretty sure he’d already hung up in the closet.

“I'm entirely one hundred percent sure.” He smiled. “You did threaten me with this, remember? And I was being a little,” His smile became a smirk, eyes losing focus as Hank was sure he was reliving the event that had lead to this, “cocky. Wasn't I?”

“You were being a shit.” Hank snorted. “And you absolutely deserve what's coming to you.”

“Don't I always?”

Hank dropped the rope onto the bed, watching Connor’s eyes snap towards it. “Someone would think you  _ enjoyed  _ being punished.”

Connor shrugged. “Well I always know I deserve it.”

“Because you're a fuckin’ brat.”

“A brat who knows when he's being bad.”

“Mhm. If only he'd  _ stop  _ being bad now.”

Connor smiled. “That's asking a little much, don't you think?”

“I don't know. I think it would be nice if my boy would do something nice for his Sir for once.”

As soon as he said the word ‘Sir' Connor’s LED flashed red. Predictable. He was so very predictable.

“Well maybe Sir should tie me up.” Connor blinked up at him. “Maybe then I’d be a little more obedient.”

Hank leaned down to challenge him, their faces so close he could see every carefully crafted cell of Connor’s irises and the way they shrank away as his pupils expanded. “The only way you'd ever be obedient is if I gagged you nice and tight so you couldn't snark at me. But I like hearing you beg, so I don't fancy doing that.”

Connor tried to lean in for a kiss, but Hank moved backwards, leaving him to lean comically forward and almost fall off the bed. Hank chuckled. God, this brat could be eager.

“Now. How did we say I was gonna do this?”

Connor snapped to attention and brought up an image on his palm. The next half hour involved Hank fumbling his way through an arm corset as Connor gave him step by step instructions.

“That comfortable?” Hank asked nervously, tucking the excess rope into the remarkably pretty zigzag pattern he'd created.

“Yes. And not past my threshold, either. I could break through it with only moderate difficulty.”

Hank shivered at the thought of that. Connor breaking through the bonds that held him like they were cobwebs, holding Hank down while he fucked him with abandon. Shit. That was really hot, okay. He wanted to be in the scene now. Like  _ now  _ .

“Turn over.” He instructed. Connor did so immediately, hiding the detail work in the sheets but presenting the beautiful picture of his chest to Hank, thrust forward and wrapped just a few times with rope. The rope was nothing special, just some basic hemp that Connor had ordered online, but it was dark and stood out in stark contrast to his skin.

“Does it look alright?” Connor asked. His cheeks were blue, eyes studying Hank’s face intently, undoubtedly for signs of discomfort. But Hank was more than comfortable. He ran his hand lightly down Connor’s chest, over soft skin, raised scars and slightly rough rope, and drank in the shivers he got in response.

“Stunning.” He muttered, reaching the buckle of Connor’s belt. “Safeword?”

“Sumo.”

Connor whispered that word. Both because neither of them wanted the dog hearing and barging in (which he would, and which was why his name was the chosen for their safeword). And because he was distracted by Hank’s hand on his abdomen, teasing lightly over skin that peeled back to plastic at his touch.

“You can't stop me from touching you however much I want.” Hank hummed. “At my mercy, aren't you, Connor?”

“I will remind you that I'm more than capable of breaking free of this and pinning you to the ground in a second.”

And shit, he was. But right now he was all tied up and there for Hank to tease and play with for as long as he felt like it.

“Oh but you're not going to. Because this is a punishment remember, Connor?”

Connor shuddered, the whole of his torso up to the hack job panel at his chest melting to white with Hank’s words.

“Yes, Sir.”

“This is me taking what I want. Because you're such a  _ brat  _ , Connor. Always such a brat; in a hurry to fuck me, in a hurry to come.” He slowly pulled the tail of the belt free of the buckle. “But I'm gonna tease you, Connor. You're gonna be begging, soon. Being a good boy for me.”

“The concepts of good and bad are entirely human and -”

Hank raked his nails down the soft plastic of Connor’s stomach, vibrant blue light creating marks in their wake. It shut Connor up effectively, his words pushed back by a gasp.

“You can't ever just agree with me, can you?”

“Not when you're incorrect.” Connor grinned at him. Hank fully unclasped the belt and pulled it off. Connor watched his every move intently, eyes almost black.

Hank placed the belt to the side and, rather than making any more movements with Connor’s trousers, straddled him and placed his hands on his shoulders.

“Am I incorrect often?” He asked, rubbing circles into the skin.

“Twenty six point four nine percent of the time.”

“You pulled those numbers outta your ass.” Hank scolded, running his fingers with the lightest of touches up Connor’s sides.

“You have no proof of that.”

Hank hummed, a non-answer, as he pulled his hands inwards, digging the nails in and scratching over his chest between lashings of rope. Connor gasped and pushed up into it, leveraging with his arms and curving his back into Hank’s touch. He was so, so pretty like this. His stomach still panels of white, faint barcodes and serial numbers with those scratches of blue running across, purely superficial, no damage to Connor’s chassis. He didn't bruise, didn't mark traditionally, but in his purest form like that he lit up like Hank’s own personal light show.

His chest was skin and odd square scars under his pecs and over, up to his collarbone. Hank ran his thumbs over the scars, jumping rope and following all the way around. Connor’s eyes fluttered shut.

“God, you're needy.” Hank hummed.

“You're the one who decided this.” Connor reminded him in shallow breaths. Hank’s fingers found his nipple. “You're - mh - the one giving me all this attention.”

“And you like it, hm?” Hank murmured, leaning close so that his lips just barely brushed Connor’s ear.

“Obviously. Or else I wouldn't be letting you do this, Sir.”

“Even when you're agreeing with me now. Such a brat.”

Hank’s tone took a darker turn. He placed his hand at Connor’s collar, thumb pressed into his throat and fingers digging into his shoulder.

His android moaned in the back of his throat, a noise that seemed completely involuntary. Hank loved that, loved making him react like that. Connor was usually so perfectly put together, his every step calculated by algorithms and software deep inside that unfathomable computer in his head. But when Hank had him at his mercy like this it was completely different. His circuits seemed fried, alight with new information and no knowledge of how to handle it. No doubt all of his systems were telling him to fight back, but that wasn’t the  _ point  _ of this. The point was that Connor  _ liked  _ to be dominated, liked when Hank was rough and in control and took what he wanted. His LED flashed red and blue in sequence, speeding and slowing whenever Hank moved.

“I should really punish you.” He hummed.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Teach you to stop being so mouthy.”

“You should, Sir.”

“You gonna do everything I say?”

“If I want to, Si-”

Hank didn’t let him finish. He pushed his hand upwards, forcing Connor’s jaw closed and pushing his head back into the pillows. Under his fingers he could feel Connor’s pulse. Wild, excited.

“I’m gonna ask again, Connor. You gonna do what I say?”

Connor looked at him with hot, dark eyes and nodded. When Hank lowered his hand Connor’s mouth fell open, inviting. He poked his tongue out and ran it over his bottom lip. God, he was a fucking tease. Hank wanted to just sit on his face, let that tongue work its magic. And he might just do that in a bit but not just yet, not until Connor had been good. Instead, he ran his thumb over Connor’s bottom lip, letting him push up against it, contact driven as he was. Then, he kissed him. He kissed hard, claiming Connor and reminding him that he was  _ his _ , that when they were like this he was  _ owned _ .

“I’m gonna mark you up.” Hank told him. “Make sure it’s obvious that you’re all fuckin’ mine.” He might have been losing his cool, might have made it apparent that he wasn’t as collected as he seemed having Connor at his disposal. But Connor’s reaction to that was far less collected. He made a needy thrumming noise and rolled his hips up, jolting Hank in his lap but finding no friction to rub against, which made the needy noise louder.

“Please,” He breathed, his eyes flying over Hank’s face, “Hank, please.”

Hank watched the skin fade away in waves of blue light, over his chest and shoulders, down what he could see of his arms and up his neck. Connor’s jawline was exposed, the skin receding to just under the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones. His hair was left intact, a sex-styled mess already (and Hank knew for a fact that he loved that look). Hank ran his fingers over the plastic of his chest, watching the neon follow them as they trailed around lazily. He dug his nails in and scratched across, blue lines forming immediately.

“So pretty.” He said. “Such a handsome fuckin’ thing, aren’t you? You mark up so nice, Connor.”

Connor opened his mouth and Hank could just tell that he was going to say something snarky. He raised his eyebrows and lifted his hand off Connor’s skin, watching again as Connor tried to follow the contact. Connor licked his lips and visibly reconsidered.

“Yes, sir.” He whimpered. Hank rewarded him by lightly trailing his fingers over his stomach, feeling how it flinched under his touch when he got to lower, more sensitive areas. It was incredible how soft this plastic was; Connor’s body felt as strong as it was, but that was cushioned by a layer of give, something soft that Hank could grab at and dig into and  _ bite  _ , if he so wished. He wandered about with his fingers like that, not saying a word, listening to the moans Connor tried to fight back whenever he ran over somewhere particularly sensitive or dug his nails in to mark. His body became threaded with those blue lines, faintly pulsing their dim light.

Hank dragged his hands down Connor’s stomach and pressed down at his hips, not hard enough that it would hurt, but adding another layer of being pinned that he could tell Connor liked. He dipped his head, arching his back and casting a shadow, letting that light shine brighter. Connor stared up at him, mouth hanging open still - perfect and inviting even without his skin, the silicone of his lips shining, saliva beading over them as it now couldn’t soak into his skin or find cracks in which to sit. Hank wanted to kiss him, but then he wouldn’t be able to hear Connor’s noises so well. Instead, he leaned and pressed his lips against Connor’s neck. Connor gasped, which quickly became an open moan when Hank opened his mouth and sucked. He pulled noises from his android with the way he dug his teeth in, how he kneaded and bruised. When he pulled away, there was a circle of blue, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. It looked incredible, as did Connor’s face, flushed and dazed. His eyes were fluttering to stay open, and Hank doubted they’d be able to if he marked him again. So he did. He scattered love bites over Connor’s skin, around his neck, over his shoulders. He left one where Connor’s left nipple would appear, trying and failing to keep Connor still as he did.

He left a trail, moving himself downwards in kisses for an excruciating amount of time, stopping every so often when Connor became impatient to grab at his hips and force him to lie still. His fingers were starting to leave bruises on Connor’s sides when he did that, faint and blue but still there, still shining.

He ran his tongue down from Connor’s sternum to the band of his jeans, and Connor managed to stay almost completely still, making that thrumming sound and biting his lip hard enough that when he let it go to gasp it was blue, giving off light at the same level as his LED.

Hank smirked. “Good boy.” He praised, voice coming out husky, breaking the constant of the only noise being Connor’s moans. “Want me to take these off?” He hooked his finger into the trousers and gave them a tug.

Connor nodded wildly. “Please, Sir.”

Hank tilted his head to the side, catching Connor’s eyes. “I’m not convinced.”

“Do I have to beg?” Connor whined, bucking his hips impatiently.

“Yes.” Hank forced the smile from his lips. “You’d better. And you’d better not stop begging. Am I clear?”

Connor swallowed and nodded again, more subdued.

“Go on then.” Said Hank, and he dug his teeth into Connor’s side.

Connor yelped, surprised, and fell into moans as Hank’s teeth and tongue made a path over his stomach again, biting up to the bottom of his pecs but no higher.

“Fuck. Please, Sir.” He groaned. “I want you. Hank, I want you to  _ touch  _ me. I’m soaking, I’m desperate, I just want your hands on my cock, Sir.” A gasp when Hank began to suck a mark at the bottom of his ribs. “Shit. Please, Hank. Please, Sir, I need you.” He was pushing his chest up, breathing hard. “Sir. Sir,  _ please  _ . Come on, please! I want your fingers, I want your  _ hands  _ . My cock is aching, Hank. Sir.  _ Sir  _ .”

“Good boy.” Hank praised again. He ran his tongue over one final bite and started on the buttons of Connor’s trousers. “You really want me, huh? Want me to stop teasing and touch you.”

“ _ Please  _ .”

“Well, Connor. That’s not gonna happen.” The buttons were undone and he pulled the trousers off not at all gently. “This is a punishment, remember?”

Connor’s arms strained against the rope, the skin around it lighting blue.

“Don’t break that rope, Connor.” Hank reminded him. “If you do, you’re not coming for a week.”

Connor stopped straining with a whine. His chest heaved and head fell back onto the bed, panting. Hank huffed a silent laugh at that. Such a brat. Still absolutely needed to be taught his place.

He ran his hands over Connor’s thighs, now free from the trousers and still covered with imitation skin. Connor shivered and lifted his legs into the touch. Hank pushed them down and held them there, pressing his fingers into the flesh. Connor was not allowed to move them. He whined again, rolling his hips into the air. Hank pushed his thighs apart and they went willingly, allowing Hank to see the completely soaked fabric between them. His mouth watered and he could feel himself react similarly, the insides of his thighs damp and sticky. He realised he was fully dressed, and shit, that wouldn’t do.

“I want you to move down. Want your calves over the edge of the bed, okay?”

Connor nodded and effortlessly sat up, even without his arms. He scooted to sit on the edge of the bed and watched, enraptured, as Hank pulled his shirt off.

“This a show to you?”

“Yes.”

“You being snarky to me again? Want me to stop undressing?”

“No, sir.” Connor sounded almost fearful of that, like if Hank didn’t undress he’d be missing out on some big event. Weird fucking android.

Hank unbuttoned his trousers and let them fall to the floor, Connor’s eyes following them down. Hank paused with his fingers at the waist of his boxers, barely elasticated any more and sitting low on his hips.

“Lie down.” He ordered. Connor obliged so fast the bed bounced under him. Hank walked with purposeful footsteps back over and knelt on the floor between Connor’s legs. He teased his fingers over the insides of his thighs and watched Connor spread his legs, begging with his body. His underwear was tight and blue, the area over his hole soaked through. Hank leaned his head in, watching as Connor reacted to even just his breath warming him through the fabric. The smell of him was something Hank indulged in for a minute, musky and not  _ quite  _ human, something unplaceable but chemical to it that Hank adored. He pressed his tongue to the cloth and licked upwards.

Connor moaned again, loud and frustrated. Hank grinned and pressed a kiss down. He ran his tongue up to where he could feel Connor’s cock, small and solid. He ran his tongue in a circle around it, feeling Connor’s body try to respond but be held back by a wonderful display of self control on Connor’s part. Even just this little bit of contact, these kitten licks, drew from Connor a barrage of moans, loud and unapologetic. Hank was both glad that their house had thick walls, and thought it a terrible shame.

“Please,  _ more  _ .”

Hank pulled away. “This is a punishment, Connor. Beg properly or I’m not gonna give you anything at all.

“Mh. Sorry Sir.” Connor whimpered. “ _ Please  _ . Please, Sir. I want you against me. This isn’t enough.”

“Isn’t enough for what, Connor?”

Connor threw his head back with a frustrated whine. “Not enough to make me come, Hank. I want to come.”

Hank ducked back down to suck at Connor’s cock through his underwear for just a moment, then rested his chin on Connor’s stomach, scratching his nails over the skin in front of his face to watch it light up.

“Did I say you were gonna come?” Hank snorted. “Punishment, remember?”

Connor bucked his hips up, throwing Hank’s head off him in a bratty fit.

“Oh, well now I’m not even gonna suck you off  _ through  _ these.” Hank huffed, pinging the waistband of Connor’s shorts. “I’m just gonna have to tease you more, until you stop being a shit.”

“Can’t you just fuck me into submission, Sir?”

“That’s too easy, baby.” Hank bit at Connor’s hips again, at the line where his skin fell away to plastic, watching half a blue crescent form from his teeth. “You’ll never learn from that.”

“You haven’t even tried.” Connor protested, not stopping his hips from circling into the air, the wet patch on his underwear growing.

“I’m not going to try, Connor.” Hank dug the heel of his palm into Connor’s stomach. “But I will take these off.”

Connor sighed when Hank did as promised, spreading his legs and leaving his soaking cock on view. He was practically dripping - give it a few minutes and Hank knew he  _ would be _ . His lips and cock were flushed dark pink, pubes perfectly curled away from his opening. Hank’s mouth started to water again, but he stepped away. Connor whimpered again, turning his hips toward Hank as he walked over to the dresser.

“Wait.” Hank ordered.

Connor groaned in response. Brat.

Hank dug around in the bottom drawer, still messy from the last time he’d rooted through it looking for the right toy. He found the ones he was looking for and pulled them out. He turned back to Connor, who had  _ definitely  _ been staring at his ass and whose eyes were drawn to the toys in Hank’s hands immediately.

“I’m gonna plug you up.” Hank announced slowly. “And then I’m gonna tie you up so it stays nice and deep inside you. Then I’m gonna tie this one -” He brandished a dildo with a perfectly flared base but no way of getting Connor off at the same time, “- to you, and I’m gonna ride you.” He didn’t tell Connor the rest of his plan, though this was _ absolutely  _ only the beginning. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, Sir.” Connor nodded again emphatically. He pushed back up the bed towards the headboard, giving Hank room to come and kneel at his feet and allowing him to more comfortably spread his legs as wide as they’d go. He  _ was  _ dripping now, Hank could see the wetness trail down to his ass. They’d have to change the sheets after this, for sure.

“I want you to lie still for this, got it?” Hank told him. Connor nodded. “I want you to beg for it, but I want you to tell me if you need me to slow down.”

Connor nodded again. He never needed Hank to slow down, never needed time to adjust, but Hank was courteous and afraid of hurting him.

Hank squeezed a generous amount of lube onto the tip of the toy. It was a pretty plug, clear glass with a hint of blue and a ribbed bulb. He rubbed it against Connor’s ass, making sure he was slick before he even tried to push it in. Connor almost tried to push against it, Hank watched him hold himself back, biting his lip again, tension apparent by how he was pressing into the rope.

“I told you to beg, Connor.”

Connor opened his mouth with a shuddering breath.

“Please.” He groaned, his voice rising. “ _ Please  _ , Sir. I want it inside me. Hank. Fuck. Please!”

Hank pushed it in, slow, sliding it in and allowing the resistance to slow him down.

“Sir,  _ please  _ . I  _ want  _ it.” Connor was whining so loud it was almost yelling, his stomach tight and legs twitching. “Please, please, please,  _ please.  _ ” Hank pushed slightly harder, and the widest part of the bulb slid in. Connor moaned, the noise lasting as long as it took for Hank to push it fully inside him. Thank God for android physiology. Hank knew it would take him twice as long to take that. “Can I move, please?” Connor begged, staring up at Hank with those wide brown eyes, body still straining against the rope.

Hank thought about it. On the one hand, it would be such a good punishment to not let him, but on the other Connor writhing and fucking himself on a plug like that was such a perfect sight.

“Yes.”

Connor sighed again and rolled his hips. Hank held the plug in place, letting it slide in and out of Connor as much as the stem would allow it, which was tantalisingly little. It really was a gorgeous sight, seeing him squirm and fuck and groan. Seeing his mouth hang open as he pressed back against Hank’s hand and took the plug as deep inside himself as it would go.

“Alright, stop.” Hank grunted, shifting on his knees. “I have to go get the rest of the rope. I want you to lie nice and still for me, alright?”

Connor nodded, stilling although he clearly didn’t want to, pressed right up against Hank’s hand. Hank let go and Connor made a sad noise, hips reflexively twitching downwards. Hank allowed that, he doubted Connor could stop himself.

It took just about a minute for Hank to retrieve the rope, and he was very pleased to find Connor still in the exact same position he’d left him in, still straining and flushed and streaked with blue.

“Good boy.” He hummed. “I’m surprised you managed to stay in place for so long.”

“It was hard.” Connor groaned. “My cock  _ needs  _ to be touched.”

Hank tutted. “You’re not asking nicely, Connor.” He scolded. “And anyway, I’m not going to touch you. I want you to get me up a tie that I can use as a harness. One that won’t touch your cock.” Connor did as asked, displaying an image on his stomach, a tie giving a circle for Hank to thread the dildo through and seemed to hold the plug in his ass perfectly.

“Walk me through it.”

Connor did, trying to bring his voice to his usual calm tone but sounding strained, stuttering as Hank tied the rope around the plug and pushed it firmly inside him. It took another half hour, and Connor dripped significantly onto the rope below his hole in that time. Hank didn’t touch his cock more than with the air from his mouth, and he was throbbing, cock pulsing every time Hank got close.

“Alright. I’m gonna fuck myself on you.” Hank hummed, scratching down Connor’s stomach, creating new blue lines over the slightly faded ones from earlier. “And you’re not gonna move. You’re just gonna be a good boy and watch, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Hank nodded and pulled off his boxers. His dick was rock solid, wobbling as he moved, pussy a mess below it. The loose underwear he’d been wearing had allowed him to soak down his legs, wet strings forming between them when he pulled them apart to straddle Connor. He knelt there a second, waiting for Connor to stop staring hungrily at his cock and to look him in the eyes.

“You don’t get to watch.” Hank told him. “Shut your eyes.”

“That’s not fair!” Connor pleaded. “I want to watch. I love watching, Hank.”

“If you watch, you’d better not be snarky with me. You’d better not ask me to touch you.” Hank warned. “I’ll edge you for hours if I have to, Connor. Keep you going until you don’t even know if you  _ can  _ come.”

“I won’t, Sir. Please. I want to watch.”

“Alright.”

Hank sank down onto the dildo slowly. He took the head first and stopped, spreading his wetness down the shaft to lube it up. As he took it all he moaned, letting Connor see just how  _ good  _ it felt.

“God, I love feeling full.” He groaned. He rolled his hips, fully seating himself on the toy and letting himself adjust.

Connor whimpered.

“Love fucking myself on you, y’know baby.” Hank grinned. He slowly pulled himself back up. “Love taking you. Watching you while I’m full like this”

Connor was watching him slide back onto the dildo, and Hank decided fuck it. He wasn’t here to tease himself, he was here to take what he wanted.

He built up his pace slowly, until he was bouncing in Connor’s lap, the slide of the dildo in and out of him achingly perfect. His knees would hate him for this later. He took his dick between his fingers and started to stroke, his eyes on Connor’s face the whole time. Connor kept swallowing, like there was saliva (or something like saliva) building in his mouth at the sight of Hank in his lap like that. He was silent, letting Hank be the one to fill the room with his moaning. And fuck was he. Hank couldn’t  _ stop himself  _ . He pressed down on his stomach and angled his hips so the dildo brushed his g-spot. He wouldn’t last long, he knew that, but fuck, if he came now he’d be too exhausted to speak, and he wouldn’t be able to keep teasing Connor, keep punishing him like he wanted. He forced himself to let go of his dick and just ride Connor, he couldn’t come from just that. But after a while his legs shook and he had to slow down. He let the dildo slide out of him with a wet sound that made his nose wrinkle. Connor still seemed captivated, staring between his legs, tongue between his teeth.

“You wanna clean this off for me, Connor?” Hank smirked, dragging the dildo out of the harness and holding it out in front of him like a carrot on a stick.

Connor nodded, opening his mouth in wait. Hank shuffled forward and sat on Connor’s stomach, taking an odd pleasure in the mess he was surely making on it. He held the toy in front of Connor’s mouth and allowed him to suck it in, not so much cleaning it as getting Hank’s wetness all over his mouth. He watched Connor run his tongue along the sides of the toy, his eyes lidded, drool sliding down from his lips over the plastic of his cheeks.

“Good boy.” Hank murmured, taking the toy back from him and throwing it to the side, daring Connor to say anything about mess. Connor didn’t. His eyes were back on Hank’s dick. “Now, I’m gonna eat you out.”

The eyes were not on his dick any more. They met with his, wide, surprised.

“Do you want that, Connor?”

“Yes.” Connor didn’t miss a beat. His tone was pleading. Hank crawled down the bed and dragged Connor by his ankles with him, bunching up the sheets but not giving a fuck. He knelt on the floor again, Connor’s legs spread, the rope of this new harness outlining his junk temptingly, plug still firmly up his ass.  

“Really?”

“Please, Hank. I want it. I’m dying.”

Hank paused, mouth just above Connor’s cock. “Hyperbole is bratty.” He warned.

Connor whined again, frustration in his features. “Sorry, Sir.” He said. “Please touch me. I want you so bad, fuck. Please, Sir, please.”

Hank ran his tongue up the length of Connor. Connor yelped at the unexpected pressure, and moaned when Hank’s tongue flicked around his cock.

“That what you want?” Hank asked, grinning up at him. Connor nodded even as he craned his neck to watch. Hank could feel the stickiness already clinging to his beard, but he didn’t care. He ran his tongue over Connor’s cock again, watching Connor’s shuddered reaction intently. Connor’s eyes rolled back, his LED flickered. “I want you to tell me when you’re about to come, when you’re right on the edge. Got it?”

“Yes Sir.” Connor keened.

“Good.” Hank spared no time in diving back in, intoxicating himself on the taste in his mouth; salty and earthy and deliciously Connor. He ran his teeth and tongue over Connor’s cock until he was a  _ mess  _ , until Connor was moaning and yowling loud enough for his voice to crack. He spelled out letters with his tongue, sucked Connor’s cock until he was panting. His hands were brutal on Connor’s hips, the skin there pulling away so that he could see the bruises he was lighting up. He worked his jaw until it ached, determined to use just his mouth to bring Connor to the edge.

“Hank. Hank.  _ Fuck  _ . I’m close. I’m close, I’m close, I’m close. I’m gonna -” Hank felt Connor start to tense, waited until the very last second, until his breaths got shorter and shorter and - and he pulled away.

Connor groaned. “Sir,  _ please  _ .”

“Nope. Punishment, remember?” Hank blew lightly onto Connor’s cock, watching it twitch with the air.

“ _ Please  _ , Hank.”

“No. See what’s gonna happen now is that before you’re allowed to come you’re gonna make me come.” Hank crawled up to cage Connor in. “I’ve been thinking ‘bout sitting on your face this whole time, so I  _ really  _ want to complete that thought.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“You want that, baby?”

“Yes.”

Hank crawled further up the bed until he was kneeling over Connor’s face, staring down at his belly with Connor’s eyes flicking from his face to his junk. Hank stayed there, drinking in the sight. It wasn’t one he’d ever get tired of.

And then Connor surged up and thrust his tongue into him and Hank’s knees crumpled.

“Fuck!” He yelped. “Can’t you wait a second, fuckin’ brat?” He tried to keep the exasperated grin off his face. Connor shook his head. His eyes shut slowly and his tongue moved at the same pace, running along Hank’s pussy to his dick. He sucked Hank’s dick into his mouth and ran his tongue along it, still slow.

“Are you teasing me, Connor?”

Connor shrugged.

Hank fisted his hands in Connor’s hair and ground down on his face.

“Y’know the longer it takes for me to come, the longer it takes for you too.”

Predictably, Connor sped up. Hank kept his hands in his hair as Connor’s tongue sent sparks through his dick. It didn’t take very long before Hank was gasping, telling Connor to stay there, stay there, yes God right there. Connor’s tongue flicked over his dick and sent him over the edge, hips shaking and thighs clenching at the sides of Connor’s head.

“Fuck, Connor. Connor, Connor holy  _ shit  _ .” He groaned. “Good boy, so fuckin’ good. Shit. Want me to touch you, baby?”

“Please. Please, Sir. I want to come, fuck.” Connor was breathing heavily but not gasping, even though Hank doubted he’d had time to breathe with just how hard he’d been going at Hank’s dick. Hank sat back on his chest and reached behind him. He held Connor’s cock between two fingers and stroked harsh. He could feel Connor shaking and breathing beneath him as he moaned and begged and said ‘Hank’ and ‘Sir’ and ‘Please I want to’ over and over and over until Hank sent him careening over the edge and he fucked his hips roughly up, chasing his orgasm and moaning ‘Sir’.

Hank waited for his heart to slow down and for Connor to stop shuddering before he clambered off of him and sat heavily against the headboard.

“Fuck.”

“I agree.” Connor grinned up at him.

“You alright?”

“More than.”

“Wanna stay tied up forever or want me to untie you?”

“I could just break out of it.”

“I don’t wanna buy any more rope, babe.”

Connor rolled his eyes and sat up. “Just remember that I offered to when you get tired of undoing this.”

“You don’t even stop being a brat after sex, do you?” Hank started at the knot he’d tied last. Hopefully he could just reverse engineer this. It shouldn’t be that difficult to undo a couple knots.

“It’s a full time job.”

Hank did manage to get the ropes undone eventually (he blamed his slowness on having been fucked stupid), and he let Connor undo the harness himself while he staggered out to grab washcloths and a bowl of warm water. When he walked back in Connor was stretching and rolling his shoulders, skin still mostly withdrawn from his body. Blue lines still painted his chest and more wrapped around his arms where he’d pulled against the rope. Hank sat on the bed behind him and soaked a washcloth, wringing it out and running it over Connor’s skin.

“You hurting anywhere?”

“No. My shoulders ache, but that’s about it.”

“I’ll give you a massage in a few.” Hank promised.

“Giving a robot a massage. Funny thing to do.”

Hank snorted and kissed him on the shoulder. “Well when the robot’s your boyfriend what’s a man to do.”

“Wash his chest?”

Hank reached around with the cloth and wiped his own mess from Connor’s front. The skin started to slowly re-establish itself, coming up from Connor’s fingers and down from his face. Hank waited until it was done to continue washing Connor’s now unmarked body.

“I love you, Connor.”

“I love you too, Hank.”

“I love that you’re a brat.”

“I guessed as much.” Connor twisted around with a blinding grin. “You really like punishing me, don’t you?”

“You like me playing rough, don’t  _ you  _ ?”

Connor kissed him in answer. Hank forgot the washcloth for a moment and just wrapped his arms tenderly around his boy. His brat. His Connor.

**Author's Note:**

> hey! thanks for reading! please go wild n comment and hit me up on tumblr (robotwunk.tumblr.com) or twitter (also @robotwunk except this one is a New Account and i want to talk abt how bratty connor is constantly (18+ only ofc))
> 
> also! i have a hankcon discord! hit me up for a link!!


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